


Caught By The Grand Master

by IrisKenway



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Imprisonment, Masturbation, Minor Violence, Reader-Insert, Romance, Self-Insert, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisKenway/pseuds/IrisKenway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting caught while snooping around Haytham's house has serious consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Ghost From The Past

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this story in my mind for a while now. There will be multiple parts and this first chapter is sort of a prologue. I put the explicit rating future chapters in mind. This is going to be mainly a love story between Haytham and reader but some of our other Templar boys will surely make an appearance or two ;)
> 
> Please comment if you have suggestions or constructing criticism!

You had been given the one mission you absolutely didn't want. You were an assassin, fairly low-rank so you were to follow strict orders without hesitation. You were supposed to travel to America and find one Haytham Kenway, the presumed Grand Master of the Colonial Rite. There was a big problem, though. Haytham was a ghost from the past to you, a distant memory. You had visited Edward Kenway in his mansion on Queen Anne's Square a couple of times when you had been only a pint-sized rebel looking for trouble. Edward had took you under his wing, taught you to fight. He had been something close to a mentor to you. You had seen a young boy about your age during those visits. You had never had the courage to speak to him and that you had always regretted. But then Edward had died and you had never seen his house or his son again. 

You were quite sure Haytham Kenway and that small boy were indeed the same person, and now you had to spy on him and figure out his plans and report back to the British assassins as soon as possible. You had no idea how the son of a proud assassin had turned out be a Templar. Well, that you were soon to find out. 

***

You pulled up the hood of your dark robes. It was freezing cold and you left your petite footsteps in the snow that covered everything in whiteness. The thick layer of snow muffled sounds of the forest around you. An owl screamed and made you jump a bit. You weren't scared of the darkness or being alone. It was the upcoming mission that made you anxious.

You approached the house in the middle of nowhere. It hadn't been that difficult to locate the place. It had required bribing an old shopkeeper and a lift out of Boston. 

When you came even closer you noticed some heavily armed quards circling the house in a steady routine. You didn't have more than your hidden blades and a few throwing knives with you. That of course made you wonder if the British assassins actually cared a damn about what happened to you. Whatever the reason might be, you knew it was essential to work stealthily this time around. You focused all of your senses and used your eagle vision to count the number of guards on the property. There were plenty. You gulped slightly but sneaked closer. You hid yourself in a snowy bush and waited patiently for patrolling guards to pass by. 

Now you had your window – nobody was watching. You sprinted out of your hideout and started scaling the wooden wall. You reached for a window frame. Luckily the window had been left half-open so you were able to enter the building with ease. It was dark inside, early morning sunbeams had not reached the narrow hallway. You assumed everyone inside was still soundly asleep. You saw big double doors at the end of the hallway. Maybe it was the way into Kenway's quarters, you mused. The door was locked but didn't stand a chance against your excellent lock-picking skills. The door opened with a soft clicking sound and you carefully pushed it open. 

Instantly you knew that you were in the right place. A massive mahogany desk dominated the center of the room. There were stacks of papers on top of it. The room had also a couple of comfortable-looking armchairs and tall bookshelves. A fancy carpet covered the wooden floor. You were scared you would accidentally leave wet footprints on the carpet, so you tried to go around it. You bent over his desk and started investigating the papers. You would try to steal only a few, maybe he wouldn't notice at all that they were missing. At least you could hope. 

It was hard to focus on the papers in front of you in the dim lighting. Most of the documents were just mundane correspondence between Templars living across the Colonies. You caught yourself wondering what Haytham Kenway might look like. There weren't any paintings of him in the office. It was almost a pity that you were so close to him but never had the chance of meeting him in person. You had tracked him for days but never saw a glimpse of the man. 

Your bouncing thoughts were abrubtly interrupted when you heard a voice behind you, a voice that made your whole body shiver in discomfort. 

"You have two seconds to turn around and raise your hands up. I'm pointing a loaded gun at your head if it's something that makes you obey my orders more quickly."

You wasted the first second by completely freezing in position. You still had one of the documents in your hands. It was some kind of map. You knew you could never dodge the bullet at such a close range. And the gunshot would alert every single guard nearby. So you took the only option you had left. You put the map back on the table and raised your hands. 

"Reveal your face at once", the man ordered. He sounded furious and calm at the same time if that's even possible.

You turned around and pushed your hood down with one hand. After that you dared to take a peek at your threatener. 

He was the Grand Master himself, no doubt. Haytham Kenway was dressed in a long navy blue coat, a cloak and a hat even though it was five o'clock in the morning and he had had no idea you would be infiltrating his house.

You didn't have much time to wonder his formal attire because he stepped forward and roughly grabbed your collar. He slammed you against the wall and you saw something metallic in the corner of your eye. A hidden blade, you realised. The room was spinning slightly because of the strike.

"It wasn't very nice to break in here like this, was it?", Haytham scowled. His nose was almost rubbing against yours. Your head was still humming so you couldn't open your mouth to defend yourself. 

"Before I kill you, it would be good to know if you were instructed to kill me or were only collecting intelligence."

You took a deep breath. You weren't sure if he would actually just murder you in his own office.

"How do you know I was instructed to do anything", you said and were quite proud that your voice didn't quiver at all. 

"Wrong answer", Haytham said and tightened his grip of your collar. You felt his gun pressing against your abdomen.

"Wait. I'm not here to kill you, I wan't even supposed to meet you. I'm part of the British assassins", you explained quickly. Never compromise the Brotherhood. The tenent echoed in your head. Had you just done exactly that just to save your own neck? Your heart was racing more and more rapidly.

"See, that wasn't so hard", Haytham said and laughed quietly. His arrogance made you sick. "Guards!" he shouted and your blood went cold. 

A few guards rushed through the door to witness the bizarre situation. You were still flattened against the wall. Haytham turned his head to speak with the guards. You took the opportunity to examine his features. He didn't really look like his father. He had long black hair that was neatly tied back with a red ribbon. He had a strong jaw and srikingly gray eyes. You couldn't help but notice he was rather handsome.

"Don't kill me please", you begged. 

Haytham stared at you for a moment. Obviously he had no idea what to do with you. There had to be something that kept him from killing you instantly. Maybe he still honored the assassins in some way because of his father. You decided to attack his one weak point.

"I knew your father, you know. I knew Edward", you said. You hated how desperate you sounded.

That caught his interest. He knitted his brows and suddenly took a step back. You slumped to the floor because your knees were too weak to support your weight. Haytham turned his back to you. 

"Disarm her and take her to the barn. She will need constant watching", Haytham decided. He glanced at you. You looked back challengingly and saw how troubled he looked. One guard came to you and removed your hidden blades. You felt almost naked without them. Then he searched your pockets. The other guard took your hooded cloak and left you with a dark men's shirt, a pair of trousers and worn out boots. Your hands were soon tied tightly behind your back. 

"Up we go lass", the other guard said and grabbed your bound arm. You were led outside in the cold and shoved into an old barn across the yard. The second the door was locked behind you, you realised how miserable the following day would be.


	2. Ridiculous Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you feel the tension build up? I sure can. I added some Haytham POV in there and beloved Charles got into the mix as well. Hope you enjoy <3 (If you absolutely hate it, well, thanks for reading anyway.)

"Shit", you cursed out loud as few drops of blood dripped from your arm to the ground The coarse rope around your wrists started stinging more and more badly as you tried to wriggle your hands free. So far your efforts had been useless.

You had been locked away in Haytham Kenway's barn for hours now. From time to time you ovenheard some pointless conversations between guards but nobody came to see you to bring food or water. As you sat on the dirty wooden floor leaning against the wall you closed your eyes reluctantly. You needed to sleep badly. You had been awake well over twenty-four hours. But when you finally drifted to light sleep, the heavy barn door opened with a loud creak. You winced and blinked a few times to adapt your eyes to the bright daylight. You were the worst assassin in the world since you didn't even try to fight your way out of the barn. You just sat there like an idiot hands bound and stomach rumbling with hunger. 

The man entering your prison was not Haytham Kenway or a guard. He had expensive-looking clothes and a facial expression to match his appearance. He looked like he was well aware of how much below him you were. 

"Who are you?" you asked and boldly stared at the man. You were too tired to be cautious. He had thick black hair and a moustache. You immediately got the impression that he wasn't as tough as he wanted to come across as. 

"It is quite irrelevant, Assassin", the man spat out and took something out of his pocket. It was a flask. 

You slowly got up to your feet. Regaining balance was difficult with no hands. 

"Do you require some water?" he asked. His moustache twitched slightly. You could see that he didn't want to serve you in any way. 

"Did Haytham send you?" you asked quietly. "And yes, I am very thirsty." 

The man shot you a furious glance but approached. He opened the flask and let you drink sips of cold water. It partly relieved awful harsh feeling in your throat. You took notice that the man was taller than you but didn't seem that muscular under his fancy clothes.

He remained quiet for a while. You continued to stare at him, trying hard to come up with some kind of plan that involved escaping successfully. 

"Master Kenway indeed sent me", the man said after a while. "But I was rather curious to see what was so important that had to be kept alive." He smiled a cruel, amused smile. You knew he saw you as a plaything, something pretty but utterly useless. 

"Have you figured it out yet?" 

The man chuckled. "Possibly. I didn't know Master Kenway was that shallow, though."

You suddenly felt ill. He meant that Haytham had spared your life for – well, fun." The thought was repulsing and somehow enticing at the same time. You shivered and that had nothing to do with the temperature. 

"Hope to see you again, miss", he said and left you alone. 

Now you anticipated the inevitable second meeting with Haytham Kenway in a whole new way. 

***

Haytham Kenway paced around his office too anxious to sit down. He crossed his arms across his chest just to let them fall to his sides a few seconds later. Haytham knew perfectly well that it was a huge mistake that he had spared the life of an Assassin. He didn't know what to do with her. Keeping her in the barn like a damn farm animal wasn't very good long-term solution. Haytham rubbed his temples and paced some more. Around the desk, past the bookshelves and again around the desk.

She had said something about knowing Edward. Haytham hadn't heard his father's name pronounced in years. Of course it was possible that she was only bluffing and trying to avoid getting killed. But still, if there was any chance there was some truth to her words... he wanted to speak with her again. But after that? He could'nt just let her go to her assassin-buddies back in England. She had seen the most valuable documents that the Templar Order possessed. Haytham knew he would propably end up killing her. She was an enemy of him after all. It was inevitable.Although the thought of plunging his sword through the assassin's chest was more than unpleasant to him. Maybe Charles could do that for him, Haytham pondered.

The Grand Master saw his apprentice bypassing his office. "Charles, stop in if you are not in a hurry", he told and waved his hand towards an armchair. 

Charles Lee wasn't officially a Templar yet. He had proved to be an useful asset to Haytham. Charles was able to be ruthless and devoted. Also, despite he was kind of tedious character, Haytham liked him. He enjoyed how much Charles looked up to him. 

"I offered her some water as you requested", Lee said. He didn't show any emotion on his face. 

"Thank you Charles", Haytham nodded. "You can be honest with me. I'm sure you think  
I am an idiot", he said smiling. He took off his hat. It was pretty warm inside and he swiped drops of sweat off his forehead. 

Charles gulped, unsure how to answer his Master. "I am only confused, Master", he said. "You let her live."

"For now", Haytham sighed. "I know this is a mess. I will try to fix it as fast as I can."

Charles raised his brows. He wasn't familiar with doubtful Haytham. Charles stood up and politely bowed his head. 

"May I suggest something before I go?" he asked. 

"Of course", Haytham said expectantly.

"If I were you I would keep Hickey busy for the time being. I reckon he would become overly excited if he heard about the pretty pet Assassin in your barn."

Haytham smirked. He hadn't expected such mischief from Charles. 

"I will keep that in mind", he said. 

Pet Assassin, Haytham wondered after his subordinate had left. He couldn't decide if it sounded wanton or kind of hot. 

Haytham went to his desk and tried to sort out some paperwork. But he couldn't focus. He glanced habitually out the window. He had good view of the barn from his seat. And that made him even more nervous. 

***

You waited patiently for Haytham to barge in with his ridiculous hat. He never came. Nor did his unpleasant friend or whatever who had brought you water. You started becoming irritated. The day was turning into an evening and it was cold already. You didn't have anything to protect yourself with. If Haytham planned to keep you here he would soon have one frozen dead Assassin instead of caged one. 

The coldness and hunger soon grew unbearable so you had to do something about it. You staggered to the door. 

"Guard!" you shouted through a crack in the wood. You knew he was just on the other side of the door. 

"Shut up!" a man answered and punched the door. 

You backed up few steps and tried again. 

"I need a blanket. It's too cold in here. I'm going to freeze to death", you reasoned as convincingly as you could. 

"Do I need to come in there?" the guard threatened.

Your heart pounded. You were still bound and weak from lack of sleep and nutrition. You could kick him but he had a gun and a sword and you had nothing. 

"Wait! I won't try any tricks, I promise. I just need something warm up." A short silence followed your plea. Then you heard the guard reaching for his keys.

"You can't say I didn't warn you, lass."

The door opened and you realised you had nowhere to run. It was just your luck to get the most sadistic bastard as your guard. 

"I will scream."

"Oh I'm sure you will", the guard said. He smiled and you saw that many of his teeth were missing. He was one ugly piece of shit.


	3. His Assassin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Haytham in this chapter, mainly because of reasons you will soon discover. And yes I'm going to keep giving the chapters silly names just because I can... 
> 
> Your response and comments have been heartwarming so far! Thank you.

Haytham was still in his office when he heard something unusual. First he thought it was a bird. But the high-pitched scream repeated. He jumped off his chair and rushed downstairs. Haytham had a strange feeling in his gut. He knew something was wrong. He hurried to the yard just to see that the barn door was open and his guard was nowhere to be found. He didn't hear screams anymore. Haytham drew his sword and peaked his head through the door. He could never forget what he saw inside. 

His Assassin (had he just thought 'his Assassin'?) lay on the filthy floor legs sprawling and hands still behind her back. One of his guards stood astride above her limp body and slapped her face repeatedly with great force. 

"What the devil are you doing?" Haytham growled. A sudden need of protecting the girl rushed through him.

The guard turned his head slowly. Haytham saw that the Assassin didn't open her eyes. Some deep red blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. 

"She was being annoying. I tought she tried to escape or something fishy like that", the guard said slowly. He flashed a smile which just highlighted his idiocy. 

"Go get another guard", Haytham said furiously. He wanted to shoot his head off but the fool had one more job to do. 

"Right, right away sir", he muttered. Maybe he was finally realising how badly he had fucked up. 

Haytham cupped her face gently and inspected her wounds. One of her eyelids was swellling rapidly. She had forming bruises all over her cheeks and jaw. He decided to remove his jacket and vest to prevent them from getting ruined. When he was in his shirtsleeves he carefully lifted her body up into his arms. His shirt was immediately covered in mud and blood but he couldn't care less at the moment. He felt bad for leaving her here alone unable to defend herself in any way. 

When he turned around he noticed that one worthless piece of shit had returned with his guard friend. 

"Good, you are back", Haytham said. He noticed how his grip of the Assassin tightened a bit. 

"I'm going to give you two different options. Choose wisely. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir", the guard said weakly. He could act tough only when his opponent was completely defensless. What a jerk. 

"You can either let your friend here take you to the woods and start walking as far from here as you can, or", he took a dramatic pause. "Or I can stab you dead right here", Haytham said calmly, smiling. "Which one would you like better?"

All of a sudden the idiot went pale and started shaking uncontrollably. "What do you mean, sir? The woods is full of wolves and bears and..." 

"I doubt you will see the next day either way."

The man gulped unable to answer.

"My patience is running low." 

"I shall go then", the guard said defiantly and looked away. He was almost in tears. Haytham nodded to the other guard and he grapped the arm of his colleague. 

"Good luck", Haytham said sarcastically. Then he glanced down just to see his Assassin blinking her uninjured eye. 

"What is... who?" she mumbled and tried to writhe in his arms. 

"Shhh just hold still. I don't know yet how severely you are hurt", he said softly. She didn't seem to understand his words and continued struggling but soon started to drift back to unconsciousness. 

Haytham wasted no more time and carried her across the yard and upstairs into his own bedroom. He knew he was acting paranoid but he couldn't leave her at the mercy of his stupid guardsmen. 

He laid the Assassin on his bed and cut the rope holding her hand together with his hidden blade. He felt bad when seeing angry red welts on her wrists. Her long hair was a mess and her face was swelling even more than before. Haytham thought about taking her dirty clothes off but felt it would be too close to voyeurism. So he just took a damp cloth and washed her face and neck as well as he could. Then he wrapped her in blankets and crossed his fingers. If she needed a doctor he would get one. If she needed medicine he would buy it. 

"Everything would be much easier if you had let her die in the hands of your guard", a familiar voice said. Haytham took a quick look of Charles Lee who leaned against the door. "I just heard. Everyone is spreading rumours about the incident."

Haytham sighed deeply. "I know it would have been easier", he said after a while.

"She is beautiful", Charles noted. 

"It's not that", Haytham said quickly. He let his head fall against his palms. "She claims that she knew my father."

Charles raised one of his thick eyebrows. "Is that it? Do you want to chat all day long about daddy? With an Assassin?" he asked with open disgust in his voice. 

"You are crossing a line here, Charles", Haytham warned. 

Lee raised his hands. "Fine then. Sorry sir. I did not intend to offend you in any way."

"Watch you tongue then", Haytham scowled but smiled an awry smile. 

When Charles had left he went back to his Assassin. She looked now more like she was just sleeping soundly. Haytham sat down on the other side of the bed. He thought it would be impossible to sleep tonight. Yet he felt exhausted. A Templar and an Assassin in the same bed. Who would have thought?


	4. Non-Haytham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some slightly smutty content incoming. It was particularly fun to write this chapter. Hopefully it as pleasing to read. 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!

You became slowly aware of your surroundings. The sheets you were wrapped in were luxuriously smooth against your skin. The pillow under your head was puffy and soft. The comforting smell of fresh coffee and pancakes was lingering in the air. You took a deep breath but couldn't get yourself to open your eyes. You could hear your mum yelling from downstairs: 'Get up darling, you are going to be late for the meeting with mister Kenway!' Mum would cook you breakfast and hug you goodbye and one day... she would never come back home from her 'errands'. 

You were about to yell back when the reality rushed over you like a bucket of ice-cold water. You winced and lifted your hand. Your face felt hot and swollen against your fingertips. You touched your messy and tangled hair. Feeling the perfect long locks ruined made you utter quiet curses from your mouth. 

"Good, you are awake", a familiar voice said. It was stern, it pierced your aching skull like thousand needles. You felt sick for a brief second. 

When the feeling passed, you forced your eyes open. Even the eyelids felt heavier than usual. You were in his room, that much was certain. The bed was massive and decorated with spiral columns in each corner. Silky azure curtains framed the windows and a set of delicate fragile-looking furniture was arranged around a fireplace made of dark cobblestone. It was incredibly warm in the room, especially after the day in the cold and drafty barn. The barn. 

Your heart stopped for a moment and you tried to focus your eyes to the man standing on the other side of the room. Haytham looked smart as usual in his white shirt and red vest. He still had his hair tied back but several strands had escaped the red ribbon and framed his face making it look a bit softer, perhaps. Haytham looked actually pleased to see you wake up. 

"I am", you responded to his observation. You lifted the blanket you were wrapped in just to discover your shirt bloodied and gross and skin bruised and full of wounds. 

You heard Haytham sigh. "I am terribly sorry", he said. 

"Sorry for what?" Your voice sounded angrier than you had expected. 

You felt awful in your squalid clothes so you you ripped the buttons open and slipped the shirt on the floor from under the blankets. You saw Haytham following the event with weirdly hungry eyes. Of course you weren't paticularly happy to discard your clothing in front of a man in the said man's room but the circumstances didn't leave you better options. You still had your less ruined breeches on along with many belts that had once contained all sorts of gadgets. 

Haytham had went silent. He swallowed audibly and scratched the slight stubble on his chin. 

"I should not have left you in the hands of my men. I made a mistake."

"Last time I checked you wanted me dead."

"It is no honorable way to get rid of your enemies."

"So I am your enemy."

"You are an Assassin", Haytham said empathically. His eyes looked like two storm clouds. 

You tried to sit up but forgot you didn't have a shirt on. The blanket slipped down to your waist revealing pretty much everything before you could grab it and cover yourself. 

"Oh shit," you cried out. Your cheeks were burning and propably flushing bright red. 

Haytham had frozen completely. He stared at you shamelessly but didn't say a word. The fingers of his left hand curled around the hem of his shirt, knuckles whitening. You felt your nipples hardening when they rubbed against the sheets. His other hand gripped the back rest of a chair. What had a minute ago felt pleasantly warm was turning into unbearable heat. 

"Would – would you like to eat something?" Haytham mumbled like a teen confused by his own puberty.

"Yes please", you answered in a high-pitched voice still trying to recover from the embarassing moment. Your stomach felt so empty now when he metioned it. You couldn't actually remember the last time you had eaten a decent meal. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders as best you could and tied a tight knot over your breasts. Your makeshift shirt wasn't that fashionable but since when had you cared about trends? Most of the time you went about in oversized men's clothing. It was a matter of convienience, really. You didn't mind what other people might think. But this very moment you pondered what Haytham thought of you. Did he want you? Did he intend to poison you with that delicious-smelling coffee? Why had he rescued you and taken you into his own room? 

You curled your toes when they touched the slightly cold floor. Haytham coughed and poured coffee to two cups from an elegant pot . Maybe his plan wasn't to poison you after all. 

"Tired of tea?" you asked with a faint smile. 

Haytham chuckled. "I just tought you could use something stronger. After –"

"Thank you", you nodded and crossed the room with unsteady steps. Like a gentleman Haytham looked that you were seated before sitting down. 

"You don't have to act like I was a lady when we both know that it is not true", you said but appreciated the gesture anyway. But it was true. No lady would be half-naked in a stranger's room eating breakfast like it was here first meal in years. You were so hungry that it was impossible to maintain good manners. You ate and ate until the worst hunger was gone. 

You raised your gaze to met Haytham's. He was drilling holes to your face with his eyes. Those eyes. They made your stomach flip upside down. 

"I know I look like a horse's buttocks", you said, blushing again. 

Haytham moved his eyes urgently elsewhere. He seemed overly excited about his own lap for the next minute. 

"Is it true what you said? Did you know my father?" he asked softly, still staring his groin. 

You were amused by his newfound tenderness. Haytham had seemed earlier so – authoritave. 

"Of course it's true", you said smiling. 

"How is that even possible?" Haytham sounded astonished.

"Edward was a famous Assassin, retired or not. He wasn't actively working as a part of the brotherhood in his later years but he was a mentor to a few prodigies."

"Like you?" 

Haytham seemed curious so you decided to continue. "Indeed. I have seen your manor on Queen Anne's Square. It is quite magnificent a building. I used to meet Edward there once a month. He taught me to use sword from a young age. I propably owe him my life. It was one useful skill when I lived on the streets." You bit your tongue. You had planned leaving the last part out.

"Are your parents Assassin?"

"Were", you sighed. "This is kind of a family business."

Haytham grinned (did he actually grin?) and leaned back in his chair. "I was too on my way to the family business as you cleverly indicated it."

"How on Earth did you end up the Grand Master then?" 

His smile died a bit. "It is not relevant at this point."

"Very well. Is there some place I could try to wash myself? I'm afraid I stink."

"There is a tub in by personal bathtroom. You can use it if you wish", he said nonchalantly. You weren't fooled. He had everything ready for you. He let you use his bed, eat his food and bathe in his bathtub. He didn't treat you like his worst enemy.

"Why are you doing this for me?" you asked hoarsely. 

He didn't answer, just stood up and crossed his hands behind his back. 

"I just want to know if you are going to kill me any minute. Or am I some kind of personal pet to you?" you pressed him. 

His expression went stiff. "May I help you?" he asked. You gave in and let Haytham walk you to the bathroom. He held your arm chastely but the lightest of touches felt like a hot iron on your skin. Neither of you spoke until he had to leave you to undress.

"I will see you later today. Do not try to escape. My men will gun you down immediately if you even peek that pretty little nose of yours out of these two rooms." Then he nodded politely and left. Somehow his threat wasn't menacing. It was just a fact. 

***

The tiny room was filled with thick moist steam. Your hair was wet but clean and it was glued to your neck. You shifted your body into a more comfortable position in the almost too hot water. Being throughoutly clensed felt divine. You had added bathsalts into the water and now your skin smelled like lavender and glistened reddening slightly. 

The warm water relieved the aches in your mucles too. It was so relaxing you could drift to sleep and possibly drown yourself in accident... You closed your eyes and saw Haytham's eyes, hungry and steel gray. He was smirking teasingly. You fliched and gasped for air. 'You are mine, Assassin', the Haytham of your imagination said. 'My pet to do whatever I please with.' You found it extremely arousing, much to your disbelief. 'I will make sure you cum at least trice today', Non-Haytham said bluntly and laughed. You bit your lip and sneaked a single hand between your legs. You had to relieve this one last ache in your body. Your bruised, beaten body craved for release and pleasure to compensate everything it had lost. 

You started rubbing your clit in slow but steady circles. 'Good girl', he purred to your ear. A small moan escaped your lips. Haytham was very handsome. It was easy to reflect your own physical need to him. Right? That was all, wasn't it? You could no longer control yourself. Your body jerked and some water splashed onto the floor. They weren't your hands pleasuring you anymore. Haytham was sliding his calloused fingers through your folds in urgent pace. His hands were probing your quivering entrance, not quite sinking in. 

"Oh god", you whispered or cried, you weren't sure which one. 

He continued to pinch your hardened nipple. It sent jolts of pleasure and pain straight to your sex. It wasn't long before a massive orgasm washed over your body. You panted and moaned in ecstacy and threw your head back. After you came down form your high, the fantasy started to ebb away. You let it go. You felt almost ashamed even though no-one had seen you. 

Having no strength left in your limbs you stepped out of the tub cumbersomely. There was a huge soft towel ready for you as well as pieces of new clothing. You dried yourself off and inspected the clothes. The shirt was probably from Haytham's closet and way too big. It made you looks like a child but at least it was clean and smelled manly and musky in the best possible way. He had also brought a pair of socks and some underwear. With them you wore your own trousers and boots. Then you were ready you took a look at yourself in the small mirror hanging form the wall. You had prepared yourself for this moment but seeing yourself was still a bit of a shock. You almost didn't recognise your features. Your cheeks were constantly red and sore and swollen. You had a nasty bruise under your eye and smaller bruises all over your chin and cheeks. You raked your damp hair with your fingers. You definitely didn't look beautiful nor desirable. You sighed and returned to the bedroom. You felt sleepy after the orgasm and the long bath.

You noticed hoping that Haytham had punished the man that had attacked you. You also hoped that he would never realise that you had these nonspecific feelings towards him and what his damn distracting voice did to you. Were you his new pet? You were quite certain even Haytham himself did not yet know.


	5. Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating! I've beed super busy with my finals but I never forgot about this story. Expect a more regular update schedule from now on. 
> 
> Thanks for the supportive comments <3

Haytham Kenway was too well aware of his own stupidness. He should have killed the Assassin immediately, broken her neck then and there. It wasn't as simple as that anymore. She was breathtakingly beautiful and athletic unlike any other women he had seen. She seemed intelligent and more than quick-witted . And for the time being that powerful creature was completely at his mercy, which made his dominating side scream in joy. Haytham caught himself dreaming of depraved things, such as tying her to the headboad of his bed and teasing and spanking the Assassin until there would be nothing but a sobbing begging mess left in the place of a proud killer. 

He knew how unhealthy it was to feel this way. Everything he had was a result of working his arse off day after day. He had never had enough time for silly relationships. Simple one-night stands had always satisfied his physical needs. This was something different, though. More than mindless lust. Haytham shook his head furiously as if it could make the feelings go away. 

"Well, boss. Who we 'ave here in the house, eh? Hope she's pretty."

Haytham stiffened immediately and glared at the man standing at the door. 

"That is none of your consern, Thomas." His nostrils flared and brows formed a firm line. 

Thomas Hickey laughed cheerfully and took his hat off. He put it on the table and sat down without request.

"I 'ave to admit, Charlie wasn't really full o' shit."

Haytham sighed heavily and crossed his arms but refused to speak.

"I'd certainly join 'er in the bath", Hickey smirked. 

"Why are you here, Thomas? Don't you have something more important to do other than spy on my captives." There was distinctive harshness in his voice.

"Not exactly, Master Kenway. Came to report", Hickey said. He never stopped grinning evilly.

"Report then. And make it brief. If you happen to see Charles, or Charlie as you call him, make sure to tell him my best regards. He can feed his own tongue to the dogs or I will do it for him." 

***

As soon as Haytham had gotten rid of Hickey, he left his office and entered his bedroom. To his relief he found it still empty. The sheets in his bed were hopelessly messy and tangled and the tangy smell of dried blood still lingered in the air. The cups and plates left from the breakfast were still there. The grime and disorder made Haytham feel suddenly very uncomfortable. She would soon come back here and have to face all the bad thing the bath was supposed to rinse off of her body. Her perfect body... He was once again on a slippery slope. The bathroom door was closed but the sound of water sloshing in the tub carried through it. It made him imagine all sorts of things. He felt angry that Thomas Hickey of all people had been so close to her when she was in her most fragile state, naked and injured. She had to be protected and taken care of. She was his to protect.

Haytham heard a small moan and almost jumped out of the chair he had collapsed into. He wasn't certain if it was just his imagination doing vicious tricks to him. He stood up and walked quietly to the door. He pressed his cheek against the cold wood and just listened. The sound repeated. A breathy moan and rapid gasps of air. He couldn't possibly be imagining. He heard also water splashing and hitting the floor. Haytham's first instinct was to rip the door off it's hinges and barge in to save her from drowning or something. But what came second was intolerable state of arousal. He was already half-hard in his trousers, listening to sounds that could be formed only by a woman being pleasured by someone – or by herself. He was glued to the door, his own breathing becoming erratic.

Haytham moved his hand to the doorknob. He pushed slightly just to notice it wasn't locked. Thick cloud of steam puffed at his face and made his skin damp and hot under his clothes. He had a proudly straining erection that he wanted desperately to grab. Instead he peeked his head to the bathroom just to witness something he couldn't have even imagined. The Assassin lied in the tub. Her legs were shamelessly splayed wide open. Her left hand had a tight grip of the rim of the tub and the other disappeared into the soapy water. Her eyes were shut tight and head hanged out of the tub. Her perfect pale skin was bruised all over her face and shoulders but it did't make her less astonishing or less beautiful. Her damp long hair barely touched the tile floor beneath and her whole body writhed in unison with the moans.

Haytham had to hold his breath. He wasn't to able to leave but he wasn't bold enough to announce his precense either.

"Hay – Haytham", escaped her lips. 

The Grand Master gasped air and almost stumbled backwards. It took all of his self-control to stay put. 

"Oh god", she mumbled and curled into a ball around her own hand. It was the single hottest thing he had ever seen. 

Haytham backed slowly and closed the with the most gentle motion. She never noticed he was there. It never happened, he reassured himself. Because if it did, it would mess everything up. It would make things so much more complicated when they didn't need to be. It wasn't about sex. Haytham had no problem with sharing a bed with his worst enemy. He had experienced everything in his wild youth. What he was afraid of was affection. 

His erection wouldn't go down. Eventually he gave up and jerked off franticly behind his desk, gripping the edge in search for support. Haytham was angry at himself. He was dissapointed in the the weakness he had showed. He had showed it only to himself but it was enough. The last thing he needed was becoming soft. Soft men could be easily replaced. They had no place in the Order. That Reginald Brich had taught him since he was nothing but a boy.

Haytham came in his hand and made a discusting mess all over his clothes. He had barely needed the stimulation his hand could provide. She was all over his head, crawled inside it. When Haytham could do no more than breath in and out he heard a sharp knock on the door.

"Go away!" he growled trying to tuck his softening cock back into his breeches.

"It's me sir", Charles Lee called out.

Well, he hadn't met Hickey then. Too bad.

"I will attend to you later, Charles. I am rather busy at the moment."

Haytham was glad his voice wasn't cracking. 

"Sorry, sir. I will be back at a later time." 

Thank God for Charles and his blind naïvete, Haytham thought.

"If you happen to see Thomas, please tell him I said hi." Haytham sighed and planted one of his hands on his forehead. He leaned back in his chair and listened to his subordinate's footsteps going downstairs.

***

The bath had been amazing. You felt refreshed and satisfied for the first time in weeks. Then you remembered being a prisoner of the very man you had just fantasized having sex with. Reality was a bitch sometimes. You opened the bathroom door and noticed that someone had cleaned the table and changed the ruined bedsheets One of the windows was slightly open, perhaps to freshen the air. It was a beautiful winter day outside. 

For a brief moment you thought about escaping through the window. Then you realised it to be impossible. You had no warm clothing, no weapons, no money. Everything had been taken from you. Even if you managed to slip out unnoticed, you would probably freeze to death or get eaten by hungry wolves. And somehow you felt obligated to stay. You felt that Haytham Kenway had saved your life, even if he had actually gotten you into the life-threatening situation in the first place.

You sat on the edge of the bed feeling tired again. 

"There you are", a familiar voice said and you heard a door open and close. "I believe your bath was – satisfying", Haytham said with a strange smile on his face.

"It was", you admitted and fought against blushing like a girl. 

"You will be shown to your new room shortly. You will have a guard outside your door at all time. If you happen to need anything at all, you just have to ask. I don't have a habit of mistreating my captives."

"I think that having a habit of taking captives is more disturbing than that", you said holding back a smirk. 

Haytham crossed his hands behind his back. "I am not an indecisive man", he said sternly. "But I am no savage either."

He came closer, too close, and gripped your arm. He made you walk strictly at his side to the other end of the hallway. There was a white door, a door like any other. 

"Your new cell", Haytham said without emotion and guided you inside the small quest bedroom. You didn't completely understand his new attitude towards you. He didn't really leave you any time to figure it out either. 

"Will you come see me later?" you asked tentatively.

He didn't respond at first.

"What is going on?" you asked, now nervously.

"See you later Assassin", the Grand Master said and closed the door. You were left alone smelling like him and him inside your head. He was intense and unpredictable and he had a hold of your thoughts like no other man.


	6. Freedom For Obedience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter (and sort of filler) chapter but I felt it was necessary development for the characters. I'm so ready for the next chapter that will end most of the angsty times and replace with sexy times... ;) ;) 
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!

Haytham didn't return. You paced around your little cage that was disguised to look like a cozy bedroom. The bed was a little bit more narrow than the one in the master bedroom but it was more than enough for one. There were enough puffy pillows for a small army and the room was distractively tidy and perfect. 

You had tried to escape for the first time too. The attempt had been quite shameful for a professional Assassin. The window had creaked. It had fucking creaked. In about two seconds a guard had stepped in the room and tied your hands once again behind your back. So much for the grand escape. Being bound made you more and more bored and all you could do was to walk to the end of the room, turn around and take three steps in the other direction. There were not a whole lot scenery left to be seen. You would given practicallly anything to speak to someone, even if the one was the obnoxious man with the moustache. 

Unfortunately it was one of the virtually mute guards that brought you a warm meal of chicken and mashed potatoes with corn. You were released for a while and taken to the bathroom. Afterwards you climbed unsteadily onto the bed with your hands bound again. It was relatively easy to drift off to sleep with a full stomach and complete loneliness as your companion. 

***

You felt a firm tug on your wrists and soon after your hands were free. You felt some tingling where the ropes had been clinging to your skin. You were awake but just barely and couldn't gather the strength to open your eyes yet. 

"These bonds were way too tight", Haytham murmured condemning. 

You felt large, warm palms on your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles. With a feather-like brush of his fingers he stroked locks of hair off of your face. You couldn't help but realise that he didn't know you were awake. He moved to stroke the tender flesh of your wrists, rubbing calmingly. You let out a small sigh and Haytham stopped his movement. He said your name softly and you opened your eyes to meet his storm-grey ones. He let your hands go as they had been too hot to touch or if he had done something very wrong. 

"I apologize", he uttered. "I merely came to talk."

"Sure", you yawned. It took a while to focus your gaze on the Grand Master. "There is nothing to apologize for. In fact I should be thanking you for releasing me", you said with a faint sleepy smile.

"Yes, about that. I was reported that you attempted an escape earlier today." It was no question obviously. Haytham didn't even sound disappointed. He just declared a fact. 

"Yes, I did", you said pouted smugly. "What did you expect?"

"Probably just that", he admitted. 

"I got bored. You didn't pay me a visit", you pointed out. 

Haytham's smile died on his lips. "I needed to think things throughoutly. What do do with you", he said after a small pause. 

"What was your decision then?" You held your breath. 

Abrubtly he grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze. It happened so quickly that you almost failed to process it. 

"I decided that I need more time. You will continue to be my captive. I know it's far from ideal for you but I see no other option that doesn't envolve taking your life. It is not a long-term solution by any chance but I'm confident you will adapt."

You got out of the bed without a word and stood in front of Haytham keeping your head slightly tilted back to maintain direct eye contact. 

"Fine", you said. You stared at him, refusing to continue. 

"You are fine with being a prisoner?" he half asked, half stated.

Yes, but I don't wish to be locked up like a common thief. If you allow me to move freely around your fancy property, I will be a good little captive and keep myself from running away. I am willing to exchange freedom for obedience."

"What an interesting offer", Haytham said smiling incredulously. "Should I really set free a trained Assassin in the most sacred stronghold of the Templar Rite?"

"Most definitely", was your answer. "I have already sold my Assassin soul when suggesting this. I won't cause you any more trouble. I promise, Grand Master", you finished your sentence with cheeks burning red. You hadn't planned the ending. It had slipped from your mouth almost too easily. Almost if he was your Grand Master and not your worst enemy. Haytham seemed startled by your words. Before you could react, you were jerked forward right against Haytham's strong and lean chest. He smelled of an intoxicating mix of manly musk and soap and leather. You felt his hot breath against your face and you could saw his lips moist and so very close to yours. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you. Instead he leaned even closer if possible.

"Do not betray my trust, Assassin", he whispered straight into your ear. His velvety voice sent shivers up and down your spine. Did he just grab your earlobe between his teeth? You tensed and instinctively draped you arms around his back for support. Haytham let your ear go and briefly whiffed your neck and hair. Then he took a step back and left you partly aroused and fully confused. 

Haytham opened the door and said something to the guard outside. You heard rattle from weapons being picked up and heavy footsteps as the guards left. He didn't close the door. At least he acted quickly.

He returned to you and sighed. "I am a man of my words. You are free to leave this room when you wish but I expect you to be back inside the mansion at seven o'clock in the evening. You cannot leave until seven in the next morning. You may not leave the property or carry a weapon. Do you accept these rules?" he asked with a firm tone. 

"Yes I do." You flashed him a smile. This was ultimately the best deal you could ever negotiate in your situation.

"And for your own safety – try to be careful. There are dozens of lonely men around here. Some of them won't respect your decency.

"I can take care of myself", you snorted and rolled your eyes.

Before you could even blink Haytham had gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "I am quite serious."

"Give me a weapon then", you said with a grin. It didn't help. Haytham looked furious. The grip of your face tightened and you wondered if he would leave bruising where his fingertips dug into your soft skin. Once again he leaned closer as if he intended kissing you. At the last second he changed his mind and growled low from his throat. 

"Such a haughty girl", he said in a low purring voice and made it sound so much dirtier than it really was. His right hand released your chin and trailed slowly down your neck. You wanted to moan but bit your tongue. His hand continued it's way downwards while the other fisted in your hair gently but almost possessively. Now he stroked your side and then hip. You needed to tell him to stop. You needed to flee utilizing your newfound freedom. But you closed your eyes and yielded to the tormenting touch. Haytham knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you feel hypersensitive in your skin and blurry in the head. And he did all of that without really – really – touching you. He was mercilessly teasing but chaste. When you thought you couldn't bear more he stopped alltogether. 

"I expect to see you daily in my office", he said steadily and turned around. He glanced at your direction at the door. He had that look on his face as if he wanted to say something but he left without a proper goodbye. To be honest, you felt like you had something on the tip of your tongue too. But there was an insuperable gap between you. It grew deeper by day even if you two got somehow closer. 

You were left there gasping for breath sitting on the edge of your bed. It was now all too clear. You felt something for a Templar. And not just any, the Templar, behind the whole organization you had sworn to demolish entirely even if the task was to take your life. You were pretty sure you were no longer worthy of carrying a hidden blade or the insignia. You had given away every single one of your principles for what? For a man that didn't really even want you. Maybe he desired your body but he had to despise you in everything else. You felt disgusted and tired. The rest of your life was in Haytham's hands. He held the reins of your future in an iron grip but that didn't make you scared anymore. What would you have without the Assassins, even if he eventually let you go?


	7. Dresses And Rogues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's much more difficult to write in English than I had expected. I feel like I'm constantly making horrible grammar mistakes and using all the wrong words. Oh well, bear with me... :)

A mercilessly sharp knock on the door woke you up too early in the morning. 

"The Grand Master expects to see you in his office in ten minutes." 

You recognised the voice belonging to the man with the moustache. He sounded as cocky and arrogant as always. At least he didn't enter the room.

"And why is that?" you asked biting your tongue. Hopefully Haytham's eager servant wouldn't rat about misbehaviour and nonsense like that. 

The man didn't even bother to answer but hurried away. You were left with the impossible task of getting out of bed and making yourself look like a human being in less than ten minutes. Your bare feet met with the cold floor and for the thousandth time you cursed the lack of slippers in your limited wardrobe. Everything wasn't as bad, though. The few days you had been a somewhat free prisoner had been almost pleasant. You hadn't felt like your life hung by a thread. You hadn't been cold and hungry and miserable. Life was marginally better. 

You splashed cold and refreshing water on your face and basically hoped for the best. You hair was hopelessly tangled because you hadn't bothered with making a bun or a braid for the night. The clothes were way too big and smelling manly as usual. After all you were behind the Grand Master's door in less than eight minutes. Now it was your turn to knock. 

"Come in, please", was soft but demanding. 

"Good morning Haytham", you said with a polite smile when you entered his office. 

"Morning. Did I manage to wake you up?" he asked that mischievous little smirk on his face. I wasn't really sure if he was being sincere or just his usual sarcastic self. You tried to smooth down some of the mess that you had previously called your hair.

"You didn't. It was the other one", you said still smiling. Being in the same room with the Templar made you apparently a lot bolder. 

"Then I must apologize on Charles' behalf." He chuckled and adjusted his ridiculous indoor-outdoor-hat thad had been tilting slightly on his head. 

You let out a little laugh as well. "I reckon you had a good reason to summon me at this ungodly hour."

"As a matter of fact I did. I am hosting a considerably important event at the manor this evening."

"What kind of event?" you interrupted.

Haytham gave you a stern look that made you feel a lot smaller than usual. 

"Let's say it is a social event of sorts. You needn't know anything else."

"So you want me to stay in my room and be really really quiet?" you asked, disappointed. 

"Not exactly", Haytham said and clasped his wrist with his other hand behind his back. "As I am the master of the house it would be appropriate for me to have companion to the event. In addition I have to keep an eye on you. What better way would there be than keeping you essentially bound to my forearm all night."

You almost burst into laughter but barely kept yourself together. "You think it is a good idea to bring an Assassin date to a damned Templar feast?" It was almost painful to force your face into a more neutral facial expression. 

"Nobody has to know about your – little problem. Besides I never referred to the invitation as a date, did I?" Haytham's eyes twinkled.

That was too much to bear and you laughed incredulously, leaning heavily to the table next to you. "I don't even have anything to wear. Showing up to the party in one of your shirts would cause quite a scandal", you said after you had calmed down a bit. 

"That part would be no problem at all. I had my associate take care of that little footnote ages ago", Haytham said swaying his hand nonchalantly. 

"Ages ago? For how long have you been plotting this?"

"These types of events cannot be arranged in one day." 

Haytham eyed you for a brief moment and you felt like you wanted to hold your breath.

"I take your accute loss of words as consent. I require you to be ready in the main hall at six o'clock. You may ask a maid to help with your hair or dressing yourself if those things cause any trouble." He sat down behind his desk and suffled trough some papers. That meant you were dismissed. You had no other option than to turn around and leave. 

***

You really wanted to hate the dress. You really did. But it wasn't so easy a task when the damn thing was the most beautiful piece of clothing that you had ever laid your eyes on. It was crimson red and had several layers of of silky-smooth fabrics that swept the floor when you moved around. The neckline was square shaped and deep enough to reveal the upper parts of your breasts. Yet it wasn't particularly distasteful if you knew anything about necklines and dresses. A wide waistband emphasised your narrow waist. The dress came also with a pearl necklace and a pair of elegant and the most unpractical shoes. You had also received a package of high quality makeup and a decorative hairpin. 

You had tried to manage on your own because asking for help felt like being a child all over again. But then you decided that high-class women had to get over the feeling and accept the help. There was no way to get that contraption of a dress on you without an extra pair of hands. After the dress was securely on you had to also do something to your hair and the shy but lovely maid aided with that too. She braided parts of your hair with nimble fingers and gathered the rest into a loose low bun, attaching the hairpin to the base of the bun. She also used some kind of oily substance to make your locks way shinier and smoother than normally. 

Makeup was the last step and that you could finallly do by yourself. You applied some light powder that made your skin seem flawless. You also went with moderately pink blush and red lipstick. Then you lined your eyes with kohl. 

For a second you wouldn't dare take a peek of yourself in the mirror. When you finally turned your head towards the large mirror you gasped in shock. You didn't remember when you had last felt that pretty. You were no longer the genderless killer that wore men's clothes to blend in the Assassins. You felt and looked like a real woman. You stood up and let the hem of the dress waver a bit as you spinned around to be able to observe every part of yourself. When you were completely satisfied with what you saw, you slipped into the new shoes and headed downstairs. It was a minute to six. Haytham was talking with Charles and he didn't notice you approaching. Then Charles, the creepy moustache-man, coughed and glanced at you, fully astonished. 

"Why are you –?" Haytham started and then turned around. His lips stayed slightly parted and for a second neither of the two men said anything. 

"Good evening gentlemen", you said softly and bowed your head to both of them. "When will be the first quests arriving?"

Haytham recovered more quickly than Charles. "They um, they, any minute now", he said and tried obviously to focus his gaze on your eyes only. As stupid it was, you wanted to cheer a bit. You had never had such an effect on the opposite sex before. And now it was two grown-up Mr. Serious Business Templars acting like little puppies. Such information was rather thrilling. 

Haytham got hold of himself and offered you his arm and you took it. You stood there side by side and kept quiet. You listened to his breathing that was more rapid than before. He shot you sideways glances from time to time. You looked at him when he was staring the painting on the wall infront of you. You could hear some live music being played in the salon behind you. There and then you understood the concept of having butterflies in the stomach

A minute later the door opened and you saw a very handsome man stepping in. He had dark brown hair in a neat ponytail and a pronounced scar from a slice of a knife or sword. It had cut his eyebrow in half and left a reddish mark on his cheek. The man had slight stubble and somehow gentle eyes. But all of those things caught your attention only now. Because he walked like an Assassin. His eyes were constantly observing every little movement around him, precisely how you were taught to do. The man took steps towards you two. 

"Grand Master, a pleasure to see you, sir", the man said. He exchanged a fews word with Haytham and then turned to you. Your heart skipped a beat. Had you two met earlier. Probably not. He grabbed you hand the most delicately and brushed your hardel with his lips. You tried to smile naturally.

"M'lady, a great pleasure to meet you as well. My name is Shay Patrick Cormac but you can call me Shay."


	8. Afterparty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Templar boys make me hot and bothered.

You observed Shay Cormac with great fascination. It had been a long time since you had seen another Assassin and his precense felt kind of comforting. Except that this one wore the Templar cross proudly over his chest and treated Haytham with utmost respect. Before he disappeared from your field of view, you could see him glancing at you cautiously over his shoulder. You had probably stared too much. He had no way of knowing that you were an Assassin too. You were standing still in a huge dress practicallly holding hands with the Grand Master of the Colonial Rite. Two Assassins thrown into the wrong world. 

Haytham had lots of guests pouring in and all of your energy had to be directed towards standing straight and looking pretty. You recognised only Charles Lee from the mansion but Haytham helpfully whispered into your ear the names of the guests just before they barged in to shake hands with their Master. Most of them left you alone after the mandatory bow and kissing your hand. Although A man named Thomas Hickey grinned devilishly at you as if he knew you from somewhere. He didn't seem that upleasant a man but something in his smile made shivers travel down you spine. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination but Haytham inched a little closer when Hickey was greeting you. 

When all of the guests had arrived and you had a moment alone with Haytham in the hallway, you were tempted to ask him about Shay but you held your tongue. Instead you flashed him a small smile. Haytham streched his shoulders and smiled back. 

"That colour looks quite dashing on you dear", Haytham said quietly and roamed your body with his hungry-looking eyes. 

"Pity it feels like a cage", you said back with a forced smirk. You weren't sure if his intimate gaze made you more uncomfortable or aroused. Maybe equally both. 

Haytham didn't look away.

"What are your plans for the rest of the evening?" you asked after a short silence. 

"You can stay by my side and drink some champagne. Of course you can socialize with the quests if you want. Just – just be a little bit careful and don't go outside alone. It's a rather cold evening." 

You remembered the looks some male quests had given you, especially Thomas Hickey. There weren't that many young beautiful women in the Templar world. 

"I'm always careful. But remember that I am a wolf in a huge red cage. I can look after myself." 

Haytham's eyes darkened. "Of course you can."

***

The third or possibly the fourth glass of champaigne was dancing on your tongue, it was sparkly and delicious and made you want to dance. There was a quartet playing the newest and the most fashionable pieces. Some people were dancing, others engaging in various conversations and debates. Haytham was a good host, he stopped by to talk with almost everyone and you somewhat followed him. Not many asked about you. A kind-looking man with a neatly trimmed beard and a ponytail did and got a stern look from Haytham in response. You listened their conversations lazily and sipped your drink from time to time. You didn't really want to talk to any of these people. They were your enemies after all. You didn't count Haytham as one anymore. Otherwise it would have been far more difficult to live in the same house with him. You giggled at the thought. Haytham had a silly hat. How was he in any possible way enemy-material – 

"Would you give me the honour of this dance?" A warm voice interrupted your buzzing thoughts. You had almost stumbled into Shay Cormac. 

"Mr. Cormac", you uttered, surprised. 

"Call me Shay, please."

"Shay, I would love to dance." you smiled. He took your hand and led you to the centre of the room. His palm was hot on your waist and he smelled like soap and man. You were a bit drunk and shaky but he was a great dancer and made it easier for you as well. 

He looked like he wanted to say something. 

"Shay", you said almost whispering. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked. His thick Irish accent sounded like molten butter. 

"Playing dumb just insults me, I'm not that drunk. I'm just curious. I haven't seen another Assasin in months and when I do, he is a Templar of all things." 

You felt Shay stiffening. 

"So I was right", he wondered and smiled a little. "What's your excuse then?"

"I'm a prisoner of sorts", you said impatiently. You wanted to hear his story. 

Shay raised his brow. "Are you British? I haven't seen you before."

"Trained by Edward Kenway", you said proudly. "Then captured by Haytham Kenway", you continued bitterly. 

Shay barked a small laugh. "Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. I think I owe you an explanation as well. I indeed was an Assassin before I changed sides. Master Kenway took me and Morrigan under his wing. 

"Is she your wife?" 

"God, no. She is my ship", Shay said and laughed again. His voice was deep and sexy when he was laughing. "But are you okay? What do you mean by prisoner?" he asked now in a more serious tone. 

"He isn't torturing me or anything. Instead he buys me fancy dresses and feeds me the best meals I have ever had." You smiled reassuringly.

Shay leaned closer and brushed your cheek. You were barely dancing anymore, just rocking from side to side. 

"You are one pretty Assassin", Shay said. 

You wanted to thank him and wrap your arms around his strong form but a tap on your shoulder stopped you. 

"I require a minute of your time", Haytham said, his voice ice cold and demanding.

"Master Kenway", Shay spluttered and backed a few steps. 

"Now", Haytham said and gripped your arm. He dragged you across the room and outside, to the small balcony. Haytham looked really upset. You had to wrap your arms around your body. A second ago you had been feverishly hot but now your skin was on goose bumps. Luckily the cold seemed to clear your hazy mind. 

"I have been a complete idiot", Haytham said and astonished you. 

"What do you –"

Haytham didn't give you time to ask, he didn't give you time to process. In two swift steps he was infront of you, pressing his body against yours. He shoved you almost roughly against the wooden railing and captured your mouth with his. The kiss was possessive and sort of messy. Haytham nibbled your lower lip and sneaked his tongue in your mouth when you opened your mouth to the kiss. It went on for so long that you started to feel dizzy again. 

"You look so beautiful", he uttered as soon as he ended the kiss. "Every single man here wants you. And I was a fool to let you two inches away from my side." You could do nothing breath heavily. Haytham was gasping for breath too. He carefully gripped your jaw and brushed his thumb over your oversensitive lips. You reached to run your fingertips over his shoulders. It was like two blind people feeling each other for the first time. Haytham's other hand cupped your blushing cheek and he kissed you again, much more gently. His soft lips caressing every part of you mouth sent tingling pleasure down your spine. You kissed him back and ran your hands through his hair. The ridiculous hat had conveniently gone missing at some point. 

"I want to rip that dress off", Haytham groaned.

Yesyesyesyes, said your body. 

No, you were drunk and confused, said the tiny remaining rational part in your brain. You moaned. When had Haytham become some kind of sex god? His hair was dishevelled and his lips were compellingly shiny. 

"After the dress is taken care of I am going to fuck you", he said plainly. Haytham's eyes showed nothing but lust. 

You were startled by his rough words and extremely turned on. Suddenly it was as hot on the balcony as it had been inside. 

"If you oppose, I strongly recommend that you retreat into your room for the rest of the evening. I am not sure if I can control myself with you being anywhere near me."

"But the party, you can't just leave now", you muttered. 

"Go to the Master bedroom. I will be there shortly." 

He kissed you like he would never see you again.

***

You sat down on Haytham's bed with a glass of water. It had been maybe ten minutes since the encounter on balcony but you still felt like every bone in your body had turned into pudding. You were grateful for the moment of silence because it helped you to collect your thoughts a bit. You ran your hand on the smooth bedding. Haytham had brought you here after you had been beaten. He had taken care of you. He really cared about you, you had to believe it. 

The door opened. You didn't need to turn to know it was Haytham, you could hear his rapid breathing. 

"Charles took the reins for a while", he said and strode to you. 

"Good", you answered almost out of breath. 

"You look beautiful", he said again, hands reaching for you. He climbed on the bed and covered your body with his own. You had already loosened the strings that kept the dress on so Haytham just slid it off in one fluid motion. You blushed like a little girl. He was still completely clothed and the coarse fabric of his jacket brushed against your belly and breasts. 

"You are even more beautiful now if that's even possible", he said with a much lower voice than usually. It was like a growl. 

You started unbuttoning his jacket but were apparently too slow because he pinned your arms over your head and basically ripped the expensive jacket and vest off. He buried his face in your shoulder and started kissing his way up to your chin. You wanted to scream from being so aroused and frustrated. He devilishly neglegted lower parts of your body and focused on kissing your collarbones and sucking your throat gently. 

"Hayth – Haytham", you pleaded, not sure for what. You felt his rock hard erection against your belly and there was a notable wet spot on his trousers. 

Without further instructions he enveloped one of your breasts in his hot mouth and brushed his tongue over the nipple, torturingly. You jolted and cried out but he had a firm grip of your hands and his upper body pinned you down to the mattress. He carried out the same treatment for your other breast and you could do nothing but writhe uselessly. 

Then he released you for a second to unbutton his trousers and white undershirt. He was deliciously muscled undeneath and had lean hips and his – his cock was proudly pointing upwards from the patch of dark hair. Precum was oozing from the tip. He carelessly pushed the clothes off the bed and gripped your waist again. 

"Now where were we?" he asked grinnig.

You reached for his cock tentatively and gave it a few strokes. Haytham closed his eyes and moaned. It was a beautiful sight. Haytham didn't stop you but carefully slid one finger inside you. He soon discovered that you were already wet and ready. He added a second finger and rubbed your inner walls with them. You were sure you would die if this teasing were to last any longer.

"Please, Haytham", you mumbled and he understood.

He lined his cock with your opening and thrust in unceremonially. You both gasped for breath at the sensation and you had to swallow multiple times. Haytham started with quick and shallow thrusts that made your body tremble. You tried to pick up his rhythm but he changed the pace and angle, brushing your clit with every thrust of his hips. 

You came with a scream muffled into the nearest pillow when Haytham sneaked a finger between your joining bodies. His own orgasm followed soon after. He let his softening cock slip out and held you close for a small eternity or until you drifted off to sleep feeling more satisfied than ever.


End file.
